


Day to Day

by Lirillith



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 15:23:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirillith/pseuds/Lirillith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cyan and Terra, taking each day as it comes in Mobliz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day to Day

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt by [](http://wallwalker.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**wallwalker**](http://wallwalker.dreamwidth.org/) at [](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**fic_promptly**](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/) 

    He and Sabin had both thought contact with other children might do Gau some good, but Sabin had renewed his presence at his brother's court, and so it was Cyan who relocated to Mobliz with the wild boy.  Sabin spent as much time there as he could, dividing his time between Figaro and the shattered town, but Cyan lived there full time, assisting Terra and Duane with the heavier labor of rebuilding, and getting to know Terra's children.  Many of them called him sir, especially when he needed to be stern - and since he and Katarin were the only two who could be stern with the children and Katarin was often occupied, this was frequent - but some of the youngest ones called him Papa.  At first, it was accidental, in the way of children.  They'd slip, and call for Papa to retrieve a ball from the gutter, or carry them home as they tired.  But eventually, it became habit, for them and for him, and the sound of the word no longer brought him pain. 

    As time passed, he realized that he looked forward each day to the time, after the meal and after the children were abed and Duane and Katarin had retired for the night, that he and Terra had to themselves.  They spoke of ordinary things, the progress of the children, the state of the house or the garden, their plans for the next day or the day after or some approaching holiday.  Just as he and Elayne used to speak. 

    The first time Terra casually touched his arm in the middle of conversation, and then kissed the top of his head as she left the room, he immediately wrote Sabin a letter, essentially asking the prince what to make of this behavior.  And then he thought of how Sabin might react.  _You sly dog,_ perhaps, or _She does that to everyone_ , or _Lighten up_.  The letter curled and blackened in the grate.  He grew accustomed to her frequent, casual touches, but his own reaction had been illuminating.  He looked forward to her hand on his, to a cheerful thump on his shoulder when he made a terrible pun, or a quick, happy hug when he reported some progress Gau had made, like wearing shoes voluntarily or reading aloud to the younger children. 

    He was not old, but he was no longer young.  He had no desire to revisit his courtship of Elayne, when he had been a young man and Elayne no older than Terra was now.  He did not miss the excitement, the hope and fear and drama, of his earlier romances.  Settling into a routine with Terra had done more to disturb his peace of mind than her beauty ever could have.  It was a peace of mind that had benefited from disturbance; a gray survival, brightened occasionally by the happiness his friendships with Sabin and Gau had brought him.  In Mobliz, with Terra, he felt the sun had come out.  But he had no desire to be hasty, so he resolved to enjoy his time with her, take each day as it came, and speak if he felt the time was right. 

    One warm summer night, they stayed up later than usual.  They'd been talking about the children's education; she was beginning to think she needed to send Nell, the oldest girl, to art school in Nikeah, but was having a hard time reconciling herself to the idea.  And he was worrying about Gau's future. 

    "He's already made really good progress," she was reassuring him.  "I've been reading about other wild children, and many of them never even really learn to talk.  Gau already knew when you and Sabin found him, didn't he?"

    "He did," Cyan said, "but he has made so little progress since.  He reads, but I never hear a complete sentence unless he has a book in hand." 

    "He'll be okay anyway, though," she said, rising to return her tea cup to the washbasin.  "He's such a good tracker - he can make a living as a huntsman without ever knowing how to read, or... other things that use his survival skills.  I'm not really sure.  But he has all of us."  Returning, she stood behind his chair, draping her arms around his shoulders.  "He'll be fine, Cyan, I'm sure of it." 

    He reached up to press one of her hands.  She gave him a squeeze, as if readying to let go, but then she remained.  "Cyan, I'd been meaning to ask."

    "Aye?"

    "Am I just way too young for you?"

    He covered her hand with his again.  "Nay.  But I fear I may be too old for thee.  I would not like to leave thee alone, many years hence."

    "That's a long way off."

    "Aye."  He laced his fingers through hers. 

    "And there's no telling what the future could bring."  She squeezed his hand.  "I don't want to worry about that.  Life is meant to be lived one day at a time."

    She had said as much to Kefka.  "Aye," he said.  "Together, if it please thee."  He tilted his head back to see her face. 

    "Yeah," she said, beaming.  "It does."


End file.
